


Wrong Murphy

by royalworldtraveler



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Connor is soft, Evan is so in love, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Love at First Sight, M/M, POV Evan Hansen, Self-Indulgent, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-20 23:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18134072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royalworldtraveler/pseuds/royalworldtraveler
Summary: what if evan hansen liked the other murphy sibling?





	Wrong Murphy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liaf_sdrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liaf_sdrow/gifts), [super_fast_jelly_fish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/super_fast_jelly_fish/gifts), [hopefulminty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefulminty/gifts), [live_laugh_murder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/live_laugh_murder/gifts).



> this is for all the writers who threw me back into this world. thank you for inspiring me! haven’t posted in a while. hope you like this.

“Dear Evan Hansen,” he begins. God, it’s too early for this. 

 

He’s sitting on his bed on the morning of his very first day of senior year, and the only thing—person—he’s excited about doesn’t even know he exists.

 

“Today is going to be an amazing day,” he says, and he doesn’t believe it, “because today you’re going to finally talk to Connor Murphy. You’re not going to be weird. You’re not going to stutter. You’re not going to worry about how sweaty your hands are, because why would you do that, they only get sweaty when you think about them getting sweaty, so don’t think about them getting sweaty, and even though you want to hug him, and you’ve wanted to hug him since the second you saw his My Chemical Romance t-shirt on the very first day of freshman year, you’re going to offer your not-sweaty hand for a handshake, because that’s what normal people do. And he won’t punch you. Probably. Hopefully.”

 

Evan takes a deep breath.

 

God, it’s too early for this.

 

———

 

He’s standing by his locker, pretending to shuffle through the textbooks inside, because he doesn’t want to go to homeroom yet. It’s pathetic, but he wants to see Connor. Just see him, see what he’s wearing on his first day, or if he’s changed his hair since junior year—

 

“Evan Hansen, the man with the cast,” Jared yells in his left ear. Well, he doesn’t yell, but everything Jared says kind of sounds like yelling to Evan.

 

“Yes, hi, Jared,” Evan mumbles, still lost in thought.

 

“ _Yes_ , _hi_ , _Jared_ ,” Jared mimics, his voice an octave higher. He’s making fun of him. Back to normal. “Wow, you could at least pretend to be excited to see me!”

 

“I-I am,” Evan lies. “I’m excited to see you.”

 

He smiles at Jared for the briefest of moments. Evan isn’t completely lying. He likes Jared some of the time, but Jared refuses to call Evan his friend. They’re _family_ -friends. That doesn’t feel the best. But, Evan thinks, he’s the closest thing to a friend he has.

 

“Oh, God, here they come,” Jared says. “Lord help us all, she looks so fine.”

 

“Who—“

 

Evan turns.

 

The Murphy siblings. He feels his ears redden.

 

Connor’s hair is longer than last year, brushing his shoulders now in uneven, soft layers. Evan wants to brush it out of his face and get lost in his eyes. Blue is his favorite color. That shade of blue.

 

“Oh? You’re still not over that?” Jared says, elbowing him in the side.

 

He said that out loud, didn’t he?

 

“Seriously, dude, your infatuation with the freak Murphy kid is getting creepy.”

 

Connor stops in his tracks. Of course, he had to hear that. Zoe’s already slipped into class.

 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

 

“What the fuck did you just say about my sister?” Connor snaps, stepping closer to the pair.

 

“N-No, I don’t, I don’t—“ Connor’s got it all wrong. Wrong Murphy. Wrong Murphy.

 

“What, do you have some weird crush on her?” He has an expression on his pretty face that Evan can’t place, even being super close to it as he’s crowded against his locker. Fuck, he’s being pushed up against his locker by his crush of four years. Fuck, wow.

 

Evan is speechless. He can’t even shake his head _no_.

 

“Stay the fuck away from her,” Connor whispers. Evan can feel the warmth of his breath against his face. He smells like mint and forests. He loves forests.

 

In an instant, Connor is gone.

 

———

 

Evan sees him again at lunch. He’s in the corner, alone at a table, his pizza down to the crust and a book in his hands. Huh. Connor doesn’t like the crust, and he’s reading Lord of the Flies for pleasure, because that’s not in this year’s required reading. Evan loves pizza crust. And Lord of the Flies.

 

Connor’s hair veils his face for the most part, but his sharp nose sticks out like a beak. It has a little bump in the middle. Is it weird to be attracted to a person’s nose? Everything about Connor’s face and physique is attractive, he reasons. Everyone can see that. They’re not blind. They just think he’s crazy.

 

As if he feels he’s being watched, Connor glances up from his book for a second. Evan realizes how close to his table he’s gotten, because Connor is looking right at him. Connor’s cheeks redden ever so slightly, or maybe that’s the lighting. He tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. There’s the ghost of a smile on his lips, his dimples threatening to show, but Connor steels his face before the smile can bloom. Evan feels his stomach turn at the sight of his expression. He looks...on edge. Guarded.

 

“What do you want?” Connor asks over the roar of the commons. It isn’t mean, much to Evan’s surprise. “If this is about my sister, fuck off.”

 

Evan’s gaze drops to his sneakers as thoughts fire through his head at an incredible speed. No, it’s not about your sister, he wants to say. It’s about you. I like you. I like you a lot.

 

“I—um.” Evan clears his throat in a moment of bravery. “Can I. Can I sit?”

 

Connor tries to mask his disbelief. Evan feels his heart break a little as he thinks of how many times anyone has asked to sit with Connor Murphy. If he’s anything like Evan, the answer is zero. Connor is...Connor is perfect. How has Evan stayed away until now?

 

“You—uh,” Connor starts. “You...with me?”

 

Now that he’s asked, he’s terrified. He could get punched. Worse, let down easy. Rejected.

 

He nods.

 

Connor looks around. To see if this is some sort of prank, maybe?

 

“Please,” Evan says to himself.

 

Connor moves his messenger bag off of the seat beside him. After a moment, Evan realizes that’s all the confirmation he’s going to get.

 

He sits, far away enough that he isn’t invasive but not far away enough to miss that minty foresty scent.

 

Now...now what? Fuck, Evan isn’t good at conversation. Obviously. He fidgets with his fingernails, bites his lip too hard.

 

“Are you okay?” Connor asks. It’s soft.

 

“What? I—oh, I’m. Yes. I’m okay.” He’s blushing, he can feel it, and he can’t quite look into Connor’s eyes because he’s scared he’ll get lost in that sea of blue. He looks at his mouth instead. God, that could be worse. Now all he can think about is kissing—

 

“Do I have something in my teeth?” Connor asks, and his tone is half-joking, half-actually insecure, which...why?

 

“No. No, no, you don’t, sorry.”

 

Connor’s fighting a smile again, which in turn makes Evan look away, because he made Connor smile. Or, almost smile.

 

“I love that book—“ Evan says, as Connor asks,

 

“Why are you here?”

 

“Oh. I really—“ Evan stops himself. Barely. “Because I...um. I want to be here.”

 

Could he be any more vague?

 

Connor looks down at his pizza crust like it holds the answers he’s looking for.

 

“What do you like about it?”

 

“A-About you?”

 

Connor laughs, and Evan is mortified. But also, Connor Murphy laughing is something he’s never seen, and wow.

 

“No, dipshit. Lord of the Flies.”

 

“Oh! Oh.” Evan’s been caught off guard. “I like. I like the character growth. I like the switch that happens sometime in chapter eight, I think, between Ralph and Jack...and I like Simon. He’s my—“

 

“Favorite character,” Connor finishes. “Mine too.”

 

Simon’s kind of an outcast. Evan’s kind of an outcast. Connor is, too.

 

“It’s kind of fucked up,” Connor says after a beat. “That’s what I like about it. It’s super fucked up. Piggy, and Simon, and the whole thing where they want to fuck the pig—“

 

Evan giggles. He can’t stop himself.

 

Connor stops and looks at him.

 

Slowly, Connor lets himself smile. His dimples are adorable.

 

Maybe today will be an amazing day after all.

 

——

 

It’s an amazing day, and an amazing week, and it’ll maybe even be an amazing year, because Connor looks at Evan from across the lunch room, Evan sits next to him, and they talk. They talk the whole hour. They talk about books, about music, about their lack of athleticism, about everything under the sun. Evan eats his pizza crust on Mondays. Connor signs his cast.

 

(When Evan finally gets his cast off, he keeps it.)

 

After a month, Evan starts overthinking things a bit. Connor hasn’t suggested or offered to see each other outside of lunch at school. And, well, neither has Evan, but Evan rarely makes the first move in any case, only when he asked to sit with Connor...and he’s really glad he did, but Connor definitely doesn’t like Evan as much as Evan likes Connor. He can’t. Or in the same way, obviously.

 

That also gets a bit harder to deal with after a few weeks. Connor will be talking about some poem he read the other night, and Evan will want nothing more than to kiss him. Right there, in the middle of lunch.

 

Connor is expressive, and responsive, and beautiful. His eyes shift around the room when he’s deep in thought, when he’s thinking of how to reply to one of Evan’s many questions. He moves his hands when he’s talking or trying to explain how he feels about something. And he’s really pretty. His hair still looks so soft, and Evan still wants to run his hands through it, to push the strand of hair that’s always getting in his face behind his ear, to kiss his forehead and then his nose and cheeks and chin and lips. He really wants to kiss his lips. Connor reapplies chapstick often because he says he hates the feeling of cracked lips. Says he used to bite his lips a lot when he was sad, because it hurt a little, but wasn’t enough for him to call it relapsing. That’s really sad to Evan in the moment, but now Connor is good, he just applies a lot of chapstick and that makes his lips look shinier and darker and fuller and super kissable—

 

“Hello?” Connor waves his hand in front of Evan’s face, his other pocketing his cherry chapstick. Sometimes Evan is close enough to smell it, and it makes his day every time. “Are you still with me, Hansen?”

 

Evan blinks. “Yes—yeah, yes. Sorry, I’m sorry.”

 

“What’s wrong?” Connor asks. His brow is furrowed adorably, and he looks genuinely concerned.

 

Evan can’t tell him the truth, obviously, so, “I have therapy after school and. And I forgot to write my letter for him, s-so I’m just...worried about that.” Not a complete lie. He did forget to write his mandatory letter to himself.

 

Connor looks around the room. Thinking. Evan catches a glimpse of his pale neck. He wants to bruise it with hickeys. Wow, where did _that_  come from?

 

“Well, when’s your meeting?”

 

“Oh—um, 4:00.”

 

“That gives you some time,” Connor says. “Write it after school.”

 

They get out at 3:15, and the bus gets there at 3:20. He can’t stay after school.

 

Evan explains his situation in too many words, probably, and he mentions that his mom is never around, so she can’t drive him...

 

“Oh.” Connor looks down at his tray. “I can. Give you a ride, I mean. If you want. Only if you want.”

 

Evan does a double-take. Did Connor Murphy just offer to give him a ride to his therapy session? Freshman Evan, lying in bed at night staring at the ceiling thinking about the angsty kid in his homeroom—not even _he_  could have daydreamed that.

 

He’s silent for too long, and Connor starts rambling. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it weird. I know we don’t really do that sort of thing. That was too much of me to ask.”

 

“No—No. Connor. I would.” Evan breathes in deep and meets his eyes. He smiles. “I would love a ride.”

 

Connor matches his smile with a shy one of his own.

 

“Let me just write the letter and print it out,” Evan continues. “Is that okay?”

 

“I can wait outside for a bit. Read under that tree out front. It’s getting prettier every day, with the leaves and...stuff.”

 

Connor really is the perfect man.

 

——

 

“Dear Evan Hansen,

 

Today was an amazing day, because there’s Connor. Connor Murphy offered to give you a ride to therapy, which means you get to spend some time with him outside of school. You wonder what his car looks like. Or if the conversation will be awkward. Or if it’ll be great, and you’ll finally tell him how much you love him.”

 

Evan frowns. Swaps out the word love for like. Hits print.

 

Part of him is beyond excited to be alone with Connor for the first time, but the rest is terrified. What if being alone with him makes it easier for him to say the things he shouldn’t say, or do the things he definitely shouldn’t do? What if he screws this up? He can’t...he can’t lose Connor. He’s lucky to have him any way he can.

 

Someone clears their throat behind him. “Evan Hansen—that’s you, right?” Zoe asks.

 

Evan squints. “Uh—um, yes, that’s me. How do you—how do you know that?”

 

Zoe gives a hesitant smile. “You sit with my brother at lunch. I can’t see why, but...”

 

How does she know his name, though? Does Connor talk about him? Good things? Bad things?

 

“He talks about you sometimes.” Zoe is smiling wide now, and it reminds Evan of Connor’s own grin. He sees the resemblance. “Also, you’re the only person left in the school other than the people in jazz band.”

 

She goes to hand the letter back to him, but stops halfway.

 

“Because there’s Connor?” she reads. “Is this about my brother?”

 

Evan turns red and stares at the floor. Fuck, shit, fuck. Don’t keep reading.

 

She keeps reading.

 

He spares a glance, but instead of the rage he expected...she’s smiling down at the letter. Incredulously.

 

“I never thought...I never thought anyone would ever like my brother. Ever.”

 

Evan scratches behind his ear. “Why wouldn’t they?”

 

“They don’t see past...well, you know,” she says. “And he...well, he doesn’t let people in.”

 

But he let Evan in.

 

“You should tell him,” Zoe says.

 

“Oh, no, I could never do that. Never. Wow, no. He could never. He could never feel that way about me.” He shakes his head.

 

“You’d be surprised,” she says, and hands the letter back. “Leap of faith.”

 

——

 

Connor has a beat-up gray suburban with black dice hanging on the rear-view mirror. It doesn’t smell like weed.

 

“I don’t really smoke anymore,” Connor says when Evan asks.

 

“Oh. Why not?”

 

Connor smiles, blushes a little. Why does he do that? It’s too cute. “I find happiness elsewhere now,” he says, and looks at Evan for a millisecond before turning back to the road.

 

Is that about him? Has he been oblivious this whole time?

 

“So,” Connor starts. He looks more serious now. “I was getting a drink and I...I saw you with my sister in the—uh, in the printer room. After school.”

 

Evan starts vibrating. His face flushes. “Did you—did you hear anything?”

 

“Oh—oh, no. The door was closed,” Connor says, and rushes to add, “And I wouldn’t have eavesdropped if it was open.”

 

Evan sighs through his nose.

 

Connor continues. “I was just. I was just wondering if that’s still a thing.”

 

“If what’s still a thing?”

 

“Your whole thing with Zoe.” Connor isn’t looking at him, so Evan can’t read him like he usually can. Fuck. Fuck. What can he say to that? “I’m...I’m cool with it if you still like her. I—You’re a really...a really good guy, Evan. She’s a really good person, like you.”

 

So are you, Evan wants to say. This is all wrong.

 

“You deserve each other,” he finishes.

 

Evan thought he had experienced heartbreak before. When his dad left, or every time his mom leaves him money because she won’t be home for dinner. Nothing compares to this.

 

That’s that. Evan never replies, and the conversation is dropped.

 

When Connor pulls into the parking lot, he turns to Evan. “I hope I didn’t cross any lines.”

 

Evan can’t look at him. “No—it’s. It’s fine.”

 

Connor pokes him in the cheek so Evan will look at him. “I’ll be here until your meeting is over. If you’re not doing anything after, there’s an ice cream place not far from here...best rocky road in town.” He smiles, but it’s not his usual beautiful...Evan needs to stop thinking those things.

 

He obviously doesn’t have any plans. Friends. He can do friends.

 

——

 

He can’t do friends, he discovers.

 

Evan actually opens up to his therapist that day.

 

——

 

When he gets back to the car, Connor closes his book. “How did it go?” he asks. The tip of his attractive bumpy nose is red. His face is blotchy. He...he looks like he’s been crying.

 

“Are you okay?” Evan asks, quickly sliding into his seat. “Did something happen?”

 

Connor sniffles. “No, nothing. I’m okay. How was therapy?”

 

Evan doesn’t buy it, but Connor obviously doesn’t want to talk. “It was—it was fine. I couldn’t stop thinking about...that ice cream. Rocky road. My favorite.” He smiles at Connor as genuinely as he can. No matter how sad Evan may be right now, Connor needs him.

 

He has to do friends.

 

——

 

A La Mode is a hole-in-the-wall little shop, with a pastel storefront and a banner in pretty cursive.

 

“This is...floral,” Evan says, amused.

 

“Yeah, I know, I know. But it has really good shit, okay?” Connor laughs, and it’s quieter than usual, but it’s something.

 

Connor orders a scoop of rocky road for each of them, his in a cone and Evan’s in a cup. Evan is thankful that Connor knows him well enough to order for him.

 

They sit in a dimly-lit corner.

 

Connor hands Evan his cone. “I need to plug my phone in. It’s been dead since fourth period,” he says, setting it aside and accepting his cone when it begins to charge.

 

Evan nods and takes a bite of his ice cream. He swishes it around in his mouth and smiles. “This is really fucking good.”

 

Connor grins. “I’ve never heard you swear.”

 

Evan swallows and laughs, glad to be...back to normal, somewhat. “I curse in my head a lot. My mom does it all the time, but gets mad at me when I do it.”

 

“My mom hates it, too,” Connor says. “But you know I swear a lot.”

 

“Yeah. A _lot_ ,” Evan teases.

 

“Watch it, Hansen,” Connor says. He takes a lick of his ice cream, and it’s...wow. Evan shifts in his seat, suddenly squirmy. “So, what’d you talk about in therapy? Or can you not disclose that information with me?”

 

Evan rolls his eyes, but he panics internally. All he talked about was Connor.

 

Connor’s phone buzzes with messages. “It’s alive,” he says with a smile. “Two missed calls from Zoe. Weird. I should...probably call her back.”

 

Shit. Fuck. Shit. God. No.

 

“Oh—oh, um, you should, uh,” Evan says. Those aren’t words.

 

“I’ll be quick, promise.” Connor smiles, and then he dials her number.

 

“Hey asshole,” he says. “Um. That’s—why would you ask that? No, uh...yeah. Yeah, I do. Why? You. What?” Connor is silent for a few moments. He looks at Evan.

 

Evan is _mortified_. He can’t hear her, but he knows what she’s saying. He should just grab his backpack and go.

 

“Are you sure?” Connor asks. His cheekbones are a faint pink, and he’s biting his lower lip. “Okay, um. Thank you, Zoe. Yeah, I’ll...I’ll see you later. Love you, too.”

 

He hangs up. Looks at Evan.

 

Evan starts talking, and talking, and talking. “Listen, Connor, I know. I know this must be weird for you, but I...look, you’re my best friend, and I—“

 

Connor interrupts him. “You have some chocolate on your face,” he says.

 

“What?”

 

Connor reaches across the table and brushes his finger against the corner of Evan’s mouth. He lingers there.

 

Evan licks his lips subconsciously.

 

Connor leans forward in his seat and kisses Evan’s mouth with a tenderness that leaves Evan absolutely stunned. Connor looks really nice when he kisses, is the first thing Evan registers, and then he realizes that Connor is kissing him. Connor is kissing him.

 

Evan grabs hold of Connor’s face and kisses him back. He finally runs his hands through his soft hair and pulls him closer.

 

Connor pulls away suddenly, and Evan goes into panic mode. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, that—I shouldn’t have done that.”

 

Connor sticks his ice cream cone upside-down in Evan’s cup. He leans forward and kisses him again. Evan actually can’t breathe for just a moment, and he feels like his heart has stopped. Time has stopped.

 

It’s only them in the corner of an empty ice cream shop, kissing soft and slow. He doesn’t know who pulls away first, but it’s probably Connor.

 

Evan feels a blush creep up his neck, and he can’t look at him. They just kissed and he can’t look at him.

 

Connor grabs hold of his hand, uses the other to lift Evan’s face so he’s looking at him. “Evan Hansen, I’ve liked you since the first day of freshman year, and I’ve loved you since the first of senior year.”

 

Evan really could get lost in those eyes for forever. And he is. And he will. “Connor Murphy,” he says. He squeezes his hand. “I’m so fucking in love with you it astounds me. I fall more in love with you every day we share lunch together.” No stuttering. Nothing.

 

Connor laughs. “I thought you liked my fucking sister.”

 

Evan kisses him, just a peck.

 

“Wrong Murphy.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are so deeply appreciated!
> 
> royalworldtraveler on tumblr.


End file.
